


By the Fire

by Imladviel (Maleen)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27010147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maleen/pseuds/Imladviel
Summary: Legolas has taken Thranduil's advice and joined the Rangers in protecting the North. He cannot forget Tauriel. But perhaps it is possible to remember, and yet love again? I would really love some comments on this one, as I am afraid I have committed a Mary-Sue.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	By the Fire

It was a clear autumn day when Legolas and his Ranger friends returned to Rivendell from another successful orc-hunt. Aragorn sought his Arwen and the rest of the men sought baths and a warm meal. Legolas found his feet leading him to the gardens. His thoughts were on Tauriel, again. After all these years she still had a hold on his heart. 

As he walked, he suddenly became aware that for a while now he had been hearing music. It had mached his mood so perfectly that he had not realised it was there. It was a sorrowful sound, full of loss and grief.

He headed towards the source, and found himself standing above a small, leafy bower. An elf-woman was seated there, eyes closed, playing a large harp. Each note was perfect, and the music was beautiful. Her long black hair streamed down her back, almost reaching the ground when she was sitting down. She was wearing a dark blue robe.

Legolas stood still and listened. Finally the song ended. The woman looked up at him, and he realised she had known all the time that she had an audience. Her eyes were a deep, dark brown. Legolas walked down the steps and spoke to her: "Song-weaver, I greet you! Who are you, and what is the sorrow your harp sings of? It echoes in my heart, unlike most the songs of Rivendell."

The harpist stood up. "I am Gilwen, my lord. My song and my sorrow is for my husband, Ithilmir. He was a mortal man, one of the Rangers. For two hundred years he and I were one. A lifetime for him, a blink of the eye for me. Fifty years now he has been gone, yet I cannot forget."

Her hand rested on the curve of her instrument. She looked at him through lowered lashes. "And you are Legolas of the Woodland Realm, are you not? Thranduil's son and heir? There are rumors that you too have loved and lost." 

Legolas had to look away. "I do not know what is whispered behind my back. But yes, I loved someone, and she did not love me in return." 

Gilwen seated herself again. Her fingers began to pluck the strings. She sang now, an old tune about love given and not returned. Legolas sat down on a nearby bench and listened. 

They sat in the garden until dusk fell. Legolas found himself telling her more about Tauriel than he had ever told anyone else. He even spoke of the dwarf. And Gilwen spoke of her lost husband, and played many a mournful song.

Finally the bell called for supper. Legolas ate at Elrond's high table, and could not find Gilwen at any of the other tables. He did not see her again at breakfast either. News of two trolls come down the mountains to wreak destruction called the Rangers to leave again.

Months passed. Legolas came to Rivendell now and then. Each time he hoped he would see her, but was dissappointed. The old pain caused by Tauriel still haunted him. He was not in love with the dark-haired harpist, but had found her presence strangely soothing. He could have looked for her, asked after her, but he chose not to. Nor did she apparently seek him.

Seasons and years went by. Once Legolas was practicing archery with Elladan and Elrohir in the weapons yard when he was aware of someone watching. He looked up and saw Gilwen on a balcony overlooking the yard. Another time, he was eating dinner with Elrond's family and some honored guests, and a group of musicians played for them during the meal. Gilwen was one of them, but she left before Legolas had a chance to talk to her.

And Tauriel haunted him still. But now, when he thought of her, the memories were interwoven with the dulcet notes of a harp. 

As the years turned, Legolas found himself thinking of Tauriel less and less. Slowly, stealthily, another face crept into his dreams. Black hair streaming down, brown eyes with a glimmer of secret warmth. And always that music, those touching songs. He would never forget Tauriel, and yet, he felt he might be able to move on and make new memories.

Once again Legolas, with the Rangers, returned to Rivendell on a fine spring day. A meal was served, and entertainment had afterwards in the Hall of Fire. And Gilwen was there, playing her harp. Legolas sat as if under a spell. Gilwen sang a song of her own composition, about a lonely wanderer who had no place to call home. Many thought it was a Ranger's life she sang of, until the last lines: "Green leaves give me hope/ to find love again."

All eyes turned towards Legolas; the reference was obvious. Elrond's face had a knowing smile. Legolas found his cheeks flushing. He stood up and went to the table of drinks. He picked up a small cup of miruvor and a goblet of water, and walked over to Gilwen.

"Surely you need some refreshment after such a performance. I was not sure which of these you'd prefer, so I brought you both." 

Gilwen drank first the miruvor, then the water, and thanked him. She was blushing too. All eyes were on them. Thranduil's heir, carrying drinks for a humble musician! And that song - if there was a romance here, how hadn't anyone noticed before now?

In a low voice, Gilwen spoke. "You were on fire for your Tauriel, but she remained cold. She did not see what I see. I have held back, I have told myself it is impossible. Yet the feeling does not go away, the ache does not lessen. I am on fire for you, my prince. My heart is yours, to take or break." There was a glint of fiery red in her brown eyes, it seemed more than just the flames of the fireplace reflected.

Legolas clasped her hands in his. "I burn for you, Gilwen. You have healed me of my broken heart."

They kissed, like two flames merging into one.

Around them, the people of Elrond cheered. 

Gilwen blushed, stood up, and clasped Legolas's hand in hers. "Let's find some privacy," she whispered. They left in a hurry, unable to wait any longer.

"She left her harp here," Arwen remarked. "She never leaves her harp behind. It is an heirloom, of Gondolin make."

"The one she holds now is worth more to her", Aragorn replied with a smile, "Even though he is only of the Woodland Realm."


End file.
